


falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush

by dharmainitiative



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Roommates, Sharing a Bed, Snowed In, Trapped In A Closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28200393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dharmainitiative/pseuds/dharmainitiative
Summary: Five times Dex and Nursey were stuck together due to circumstances outside of their control, and one time they chose to be together.
Relationships: Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter
Comments: 21
Kudos: 173





	falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [withpaperrings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withpaperrings/gifts).



> title from gold rush by taylor swift
> 
> posted in honor of laura's bday!!!! happy birthday pal <3

**one.**

William Poindexter knew his freshman year of college would be an adjustment, but Samwell is a bigger adjustment than he was expecting. And his hockey teammates are...a lot. It’s not that he doesn’t like them, because he does, but they’re very different than what he’s used to. There’s Bitty, who hums Beyonce under his breath while he bakes pies and cookies all afternoon, Ransom and Holster, who are openly tactile with one another in a bizarre if sort of sweet way, and Shitty, who was naked save for a very small pair of shorts on Dex’s first visit to the Haus. 

But it’s not until he’s been at Samwell for a few weeks that he begins to realize that he wasn’t what his teammates were expecting, either. He’s not an idiot — he knows how he doesn’t make a great first impression. He’s grumpy, standoffish, and maybe a little too uptight. But he’s starting to realize that all of that is coming across to his teammates as judgment. He starts picking up on the questioning looks Shitty gives him every time he laughs too late at a joke or the snide looks directed towards the Republican sticker on his laptop.

So, he gets it together. He starts to adjust. He rips the sticker off his laptop, which wasn’t even his, just something he inherited from his brother. He makes friends and helps Lardo out with her art projects and reads the op-ed articles Shitty sends him to “educate him.” He starts to try.

But no amount of trying seems to make Derek Nurse any more tolerable.

It’s not that he hates the guy or anything. It’s just that he really, really doesn’t like him. With his habit of tossing money around, his stupid outfits that probably cost more than Dex makes in one summer, and his irritating overuse of the word “chill,” it’s no secret that Nurse grates on Dex’s nerves in the worst way. And, naturally, the one guy on the team he can’t stand happens to be his partner on the ice.

“I just don’t know why you can’t get along,” Chowder had said miserably one day when he and Dex were studying in the library. He and the goalie had become friends right off the bat, which is still a mystery to Dex since Chowder is pretty much the personification of sunshine. But Dex isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He likes Chowder; he’s funny, kind, and they have nearly every class together. He’s probably his closest friend on the team, and at Samwell period. 

The only problem is that Chowder’s other closest friend is Nurse.

“We’re just different people,” Dex had hedged, because it seemed more polite than saying, “Because Nurse is fucking infuriating.”

And Chowder frowned, so Dex, feeling guilty about Chowder always being stuck in the middle, asked a question about the problem set they were working on, and the subject was dropped.

The crazy thing is that while he and Nurse can’t go more than ten minutes without getting into an argument, they play _really_ well together. His passes connect with Nurse’s even when he’s barely looking his way, and Dex always knows where he is on the ice, like he can sense him or something. After years of playing hockey, Dex has never experienced anything like it, and it’s bewildering, and maybe a little exhilarating, if he’s being honest.

But their fifth game of the season, something’s off. The magic is gone, and his and Nurse’s shots just don’t connect, and in the end, they lose the game by over ten points. 

Dex heads back to the locker room, head bent, shoulders rigid. He ignores his teammates’ chatter as he strips off his hockey gear, and he’s still tense even after his shower. It’s not until he’s changing into his sweats that he realizes he was so busy being pissed he didn’t realize everyone left the locker room while he was showering. 

Grumbling to himself, he heads to the supply closet to put away his stuff, eager to get out of here, crawl into his bed, turn on an episode of _The Office_ , and pretend he doesn’t exist. He’s so caught up in trying to figure out what episode he’s going to watch that he doesn’t hear the supply closet door open behind him, and when he turns around, Nurse is right there.

“Jesus Christ,” Dex swears, leaping backward.

Nurse lifts one eyebrow. “Chill. It’s just me.”

The use of the word “chill” once again has Dex gritting his teeth. “You can’t just sneak up on someone like that.”

“Sorry, bro,” Nurse says, but the smirk on his face clearly indicates he’s not. Dex barely suppresses a growl. “What are you still doing here, anyway?”

“Putting away my stuff,” Dex says, turning away to shove his helmet up on the shelf. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“Same,” Nurse says, shoving his helmet up next to Dex’s.

Dex feels himself bristle at the proximity. Why does he have to put his helmet next to his? Why is he even here at all? Can’t he leave Dex alone this one time?

Feeling like he’ll lose it if he’s alone in this closet for even one more second, Dex spins around without a word to head towards the door. But when he gets there, he sees that the door-stopper he’d left propping the closet open is gone. The door to the supply closet, famously known amongst the hockey team and around campus for locking on the outside, is closed.

“Nurse.”

“Huh?”

“Did you close the door?”

“Chyeah,” Nurse says, coming to stand next to Dex and raising his eyebrows at him. “Why?”

Dex has never felt his blood boil at the same time as he felt his face grow pale, but there’s a first time for everything.

“Congrats, dipshit,” he says, and it takes everything in him to speak in a normal voice. “You locked us in.”

Nurse snorts. “No, I didn’t.” He steps around Dex and towards the door, but when he pulls on the handle, it doesn’t budge. He tries again, and then another time, before turning back to Dex with a sheepish expression. “On second thought...maybe I did.”

“Nurse,” Dex says, still fighting to keep his voice measured. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“Chill, I’ll just call Chow and get him to let us out.” He goes to reach into his pocket for his phone until he realizes he’s wearing sweatpants without pockets. 

He then begins patting down his pants, then his shirt, and it’s not until his face breaks out of its normally casual and cool expression that Dex says, coldly, “Well?”

“I must have left my phone in my locker.”

Dex throws his hands up. “Unbelievable.”

“Well, where’s yours?” Nurse demands.

“In my locker, obviously! I just took a shower, why would I have it with me?”

“I don’t know, in case you got locked in a closet?”

And that’s it. Dex can’t even bother to keep his composure anymore. “I _wouldn’t_ have gotten locked in a closet if some dumbass hadn’t closed the door behind me! What the hell were you thinking?”

“I forgot about the door, okay?”

Dex snarls out a laugh. “Of _course_ you did.”

Nurse narrows his eyes. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It _means_ that you are the most oblivious, self-obsessed jackass I know!” Dex cries. “You walk around with your head in the clouds and just expect everything to work out. You dropped your laptop in Lake Quad and didn’t even give a shit, and we just lost a game because you couldn’t bother to pay attention to where your shots were heading, and now we’re going to die of starvation because you forgot a _very_ key piece of information!”

An expression Dex doesn’t recognize crosses Nurse’s face. It almost looks like hurt, but before Dex has time to feel guilty about it, the expression is gone. “That’s not fair,” Nurse says, voice filled with anger. “Especially because _you’re_ the one that refused to pass to me every time I was open.”

“Because you kept missing!”

“I missed _one shot,_ so why don’t you just admit it’s because you have some weird vendetta against me and can’t have a conversation with me without yelling at me for no reason?”

“Come on, you’re always purposefully egging me on.”

“Yeah, because you find some reason to argue with me no matter what I do!” Nurse bursts out.

Dex doesn’t have a good response to that, because, if he’s being honest, it’s the truth, so he makes a frustrated noise and kicks the door like that’ll actually help matters. Of course, the door stays closed.

“Don’t worry, if you keep yelling at me someone’s bound to find us eventually,” Nurse says with a scoff.

Dex growls. “How are you not freaking out right now?”

“It’s called not having a stick up my ass,” Nurse retorts. “You should try it sometime, Dexy. Besides, it’s not my first time stuck in a closet.”

Dex, to his embarrassment, feels his face grow hot, and when he tries to come up with a retort, the only thing that comes out of his mouth are sputtering noises.

Nurse raises his eyebrows. “It’s just a joke, dude. Chill.”

“I know that,” Dex grits out.

“Well, I’m impressed. I didn’t think your feeble, ignorant, straight white man brain would get it.”

“I wasn’t — I’m not even — ” Dex feels his shoulders hunch even further towards his ears, and knows without looking in a mirror that his face is a splotchy, angry red. “Look, that sticker wasn’t even mine, alright? The laptop was my brother’s.”

Nurse actually looks a little surprised at that, but his face shifts quickly back into its neutral, chill expression. “Well, you still kept it on.”

Dex growls, frustrated. “I took it off like, months ago! Look, I know — I know what you think of me, but I’m not...like that.”

Nurse lifts an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I mean, you’re a fucking asshole to me every time I open my mouth.”

“That’s because every time you open your mouth it’s to be annoying! I swear to God, Nurse — ”

“Dex? Nursey?” A voice calls from the other side of the closet door. “Is that you?”

“We’re in here!” Nurse calls, and only a moment later, the supply closet door is opening to reveal Chowder. Dex has never been so glad to see him in his life.

“How long have you guys been in here?”

“Too long,” Dex mutters, and Nurse scoffs, and the two of them quickly exit the closet. “How did you find us?”

“Well! Nursey wasn’t answering his phone, and then I realized I didn’t remember you guys leaving the locker room with us, so I came back here and heard you guys yelling, and here you are,” Chowder says brightly.

“You got here just in time, Chow,” Nurse says. “Dex probably would’ve resorted to cannibalism in the hour.”

Dex narrows his eyes at him, and Nurse smirks back.

It’d be nice to say that after being stuck together for nearly a quarter of an hour, they reached some sort of mutual agreement or truce. But the truth is that the next day Dex and Nurse were just as hostile with each other, and got into an argument only ten minutes into team breakfast.

But the good news is, Hall and Murray placed an order for the supply closet door to be fixed the week after.

  
  
  


**two.**

Something that surprised Dex his freshman year was that college parties have a surprising amount in common with high school parties. There’s always flip cup, a music playlist that has at least one Rihanna song on it, and a couple making out a little too intensely in the corner. 

And if he thought for a minute that his sophomore year kegsters might be a little more sophisticated, that idea is quickly forgotten once Ransom and Holster cement their roles as captains and official kegster planners. So Dex isn’t even surprised when, during the second Haus kegster of the year, someone suggests they play seven minutes in heaven, and Ransom and Holster are immediately on board. But Dex didn’t expect them to rope him into playing, and he definitely didn’t expect the bottle to land on him and Nursey two rounds in.

But here he is, in the dim hall closet of the Haus with far less space between him and Nursey than he’s comfortable with.

“This is my nightmare,” he announces, and he’s being a little dramatic, but he’s also not. He and Nursey aren’t at each other’s throats like they were as freshmen, and there are even times when Dex thinks he and Nursey might actually be friends, but those times are few and far in between, and they still fight more often than not.

“This isn’t exactly a dream come true for me either,” Nursey says. He sounds coherent, but he sways a little when he stands, and Dex saw him dancing on a table like half an hour, so he knows he’s been drinking. “Relax, Poindexter. We don’t have to do anything. We can just chill.”

“If you say chill _one more time —_ ”

“You’ll what?” Nursey says with a smirk that instantly makes Dex’s ears go hot. He realizes, suddenly, that Nursey has been watching him way too closely since Ransom shoved them in this closet. 

“Shut up,” Dex mumbles, quickly looking away from Nursey’s gaze, but he can still feel Nursey’s eyes on his face. “Just...you stay on your side of the closet, and I’ll stay on mine, and — ”

“You know what I think?” Nursey interrupts. “I think you _want_ to kiss me.”

Dex’s mouth feels dry. “What?”

“Dex, seriously. ‘M not stupid. I see the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice,” Nursey says, and Dex freezes.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says immediately. “You’re drunk.”

He is, but Dex has been drinking too, just enough to acknowledge to himself that Nursey isn’t too off base. Not that he wants to kiss Nursey. Obviously, he doesn’t, because Nursey is his teammate, and also the bane of his existence, even though they’ve finally started to get along. But Dex also has eyes, and Nursey is objectively the hottest person he knows. So yeah, maybe he notices when Nursey steps in the Haus from outside that his hair is perfectly windswept in an annoyingly effortless way, and maybe he finds his eyes tracing Nursey’s tattoo when he’s wearing one of his stupidly revealing bro tanks, but that doesn’t mean anything. Nursey is still annoying and infuriating, and it’s not like he’d ever actually act on anything, much less even want to. 

But that doesn’t stop him from swallowing when Nursey leans in impossibly closer.

“C’mon, Dexy,” he says quietly, still wearing that annoying smirk. Dex’s entire face is on fire now, but Nursey, as usual, is the perfect picture of chill, one eyebrow raised, an amused expression on his face. Dex swallows again, and Nursey tracks the movement with his eyes. 

“Nursey,” Dex stutters out.

“Dex,” Nursey says in return, and his gaze is focused on Dex’s mouth.

For one single moment, Dex is certain Nursey is going to kiss him. For one single moment, Dex thinks he wouldn’t mind.

And then the moment has passed, and the closet door is being swung open, and Nursey is leaping away from Dex like he’s been stung.

“You’re still alive!” Ransom cries joyfully as he takes in the two of them in one piece, and the crowd of players still sitting on the floor behind him cheer in unison. “How was that kiss, eh?”

Nursey rolls his eyes and pushes past Ransom, and Dex follows suit. The two of them sit in their respective seats and the game resumes, though Dex couldn’t honestly say what happens for the remainder of it. He tunes out, unable to focus on anything that isn’t the memory of the bright look in Nursey’s eyes in the dim light of the hall closet. 

When the bottle lands on Nursey and one of Farmer’s teammates later in the game, Dex tries not to wonder if he’d looked at her the same way. 

They don’t say anything to each other before leaving the kegster that night, and Nursey doesn’t mention the incident in the days afterward, either. And after a few months, Dex manages to convince himself that the whole thing was just a side effect of the alcohol, anyway.

  
  
  


**three.**

Dex doesn’t mind that his bus trip home gets canceled, really. He loves his family, but he’s not exactly eager for another Christmas spent pretending to ignore the ignorant and frankly offensive bullshit his uncles and brother spout at the dinner table every year, especially when their barbed comments hit a little too close to home. Sure, snowed in at the Haus isn’t an ideal way to spend the holiday either, but it’s not so bad. And it wouldn’t be bad at all, except for Nursey’s bus gets canceled because of the snowstorm, too, and because everyone else was smart enough to plan their trips ahead of time, Dex and Nursey are stuck in the Haus alone until the weather clears up.

It wouldn’t be a problem if Dex were snowed in with someone else, like Chowder or Bitty or even Whiskey. But ever since Dex moved into his Basement Bungalow, things between him and Nursey have been pretty awkward. Nursey hasn’t sat in his usual spot next to Dex at breakfast in the Caf in weeks, and he usually takes the seat next to Louis on the bus for away games, leaving the empty seat next to Dex vacant. In the past, when things got like this, they always had hockey; Dex could always count on a truce on the ice, where Nursey would beam at him every time he passed the puck like everything was normal. But because of his injury, Nursey won’t be on the ice again until the spring, so Dex doesn’t know when or how this is all going to thaw out.

It shouldn’t bother him that much, because he and Nursey are always fighting over something, but this doesn’t even feel like a fight anymore. All their other fights have been bad and resulted in a lot of arguments, but at least when they were arguing they were talking. Nursey hasn’t talked to him in weeks, even to argue, aside from asking him to pass the salt at dinner a few nights ago. 

And if Dex is being honest with himself, he maybe, sort of...misses him. He doesn’t have the right to that, probably, especially when he's honest enough to admit that most of this is his fault, anyway. It’s not that he regrets moving out, but he definitely could’ve handled the situation better — could’ve moved out on better terms than he did. But he isn’t sure what to do other than give Nursey his space, doesn’t know how to say he misses spending time with him and going on impromptu trips to Jerry’s and even the weird lobster memes Nursey would text him at one in the morning without embarrassing himself.

But on Christmas Eve, when Dex emerges from the basement to a dead quiet kitchen, he’s had enough. He hasn’t had face-to-face communication with anyone since Chowder and Bitty left the Haus almost a week ago, and he can’t even Zoom with his mom and sister over dinner because the snowstorm knocked the WiFi out at the Haus, and Nursey _still isn’t speaking to him_ and he _wants —_

To his horror, Dex feels his eyes start to burn and quickly swallows back his tears. No way. He’s not going to feel _this_ sorry for himself on Christmas Eve, goddammit. He can fix this.

So, determined, Dex grabs ingredients from the fridge and pantry and a giant mixing bowl and starts to bake.

About two hours later, he’s standing outside Nursey’s bedroom door, a plate in one hand, and knocks on the door with another. He waits so long that he starts to think Nursey isn’t there at all. Technically, he hasn’t _physically_ seen him since they’ve been snowed in together. The only reason he knows he’s in the Haus at all is that he’d texted the group chat when his bus had gotten canceled a few days ago. He’s just beginning to wonder if Nursey found a way home after all when he opens the bedroom door.

“Uh, hey?” Nursey says. 

He’s wearing sweats, and his hair is messy, like he just rolled out of bed, and he has the audacity to look surprised to see Dex standing there, which pisses him off, actually, but Dex swallows his anger down and holds the plate out.

“I made cookies.”

Nursey looks away from Dex and down at the plate, which Dex has spent the past couple of hours baking, cooling, and then decorating with the icing and sprinkles he found in the kitchen. They’re cut into all sorts of shapes — bells, wreaths, gingerbread people, Santas, and more. Dex looks down at the cookies too and feels his face get hot. This was too much, right? It definitely was. Why did he think this would be a good idea? His cookies are never as good as Bitty’s, who will probably kill him when he finds out how many supplies in his baking stash he used, and —

“For me?” Nursey finally asks, and Dex can’t tell, but it looks like he wants to smile, but he’s trying very hard not to. 

Dex’s stomach twists. “Well, I thought we could share.”

Nursey just watches him with the same expression, and shit, Dex is gonna have to really do this, isn’t he?

He sighs. “Look...I’m sorry. About Basementgate.” Nursey snorts at that. “In my defense, you really are messy. Like, _unbelievably_ messy. And just because you broke your arm doesn’t make it a “sports injury,” and I stand by that.” 

Nursey lifts his eyebrows, and sheepishly, Dex gets to the point. “ _But_ I shouldn’t have been such an asshole about it. I just think...we probably weren’t ready to be roommates, but that’s not your fault, because I’m not the easiest person to live with either. And I made it seem like you were the one in the wrong when I was the one being a jerk about everything. And I understand if you’re still mad, but it’s Christmas, and we’re both stuck here, so I figured, maybe, we could have a truce.”

Nursey, still with one eyebrow lifted, watches him quietly, then looks between him and the plate of carefully crafted cookies in Dex’s hands. “In your defense,” he says finally. “The moldy pie under the bed was definitely my bad.”

Dex feels his shoulders sag in relief. “Yeah, no fucking kidding,” he says, but his voice sounds unbearably fond, even to his own ears.

“These are really good,” Nursey says later, munching on a cookie, the two of them sitting on the nasty green couch in the living room, piled under every blanket they could find in the Haus. “Like, just as good as Bitty’s.”

It’s absolutely a lie because no cookies are as good as Bitty’s, but Dex feels his face grow warm at the compliment anyway. Rather than acknowledge it, he kicks Nursey in the leg underneath the blankets. “What movie did you want to watch?”

“A cinematic classic,” Nursey says around bites of cookie, and then gets up to load _The Polar Express_ into the DVD player.

“Ugh,” Dex groans as the opening credits begin to play. “Seriously?”

Nursey settles back on the other end of the couch and narrows his eyes at Dex. “You question _The Polar Express,_ you make me question our entire friendship.”

Rather than examine the warm feeling in his gut at Nursey calling whatever they have a ‘friendship,’ Dex says, “This movie is _terrifying,_ Nursey.”

“Okay, but that’s the _point,_ ” Nursey insists. “The whole film is about the main kid questioning whether or not it’s all a dream, which is why it’s got this magical, eerie vibe to it, because it’s supposed to _feel_ like a dream to the audience. Same with the man riding on top of the train who’s either a ghost, or an angel, or a real guy — he’s like a manifestation of the kid’s doubts and skepticism.”

Dex leans his head back against the couch with a long sigh. “Why do you have to talk about everything like it’s a twenty-page thesis?”

“Plus, the music slaps,” Nursey adds, and Dex just rolls his eyes, but he's laughing.

They watch the movie in comfortable silence after that, tucked under their blankets, passing the plate of cookies back and forth and sipping out of their respective cups of hot chocolate. And as the movie progresses, Dex feels the tension he didn’t even realize he’d been carrying unwind, replaced by a feeling of warmth and relief. It’s nice, spending time with Nursey like this, not worrying about getting into an argument, or saying something he doesn’t mean, or Nursey doing something to try and set him off. He even finds he’s not sure he minds that his bus was canceled at all.

It’s not until they get to the weird Marionette puppet scene in the movie that Dex breaks the silence. 

“Okay, I don’t care what you say, this movie is straight-up terrifying,” he says. But when he looks over, Nursey is fast asleep on the other end of the couch, his blanket hanging half off the couch, shirt riding up to expose the sliver of skin above the waistband of his sweatpants, the plate of cookies balanced precariously on his thigh. 

Dex stares for what’s probably a weird amount of time before shaking himself and pausing the movie, taking the plate off of Nursey and carrying it into the kitchen before putting the leftover cookies in a Tupperware and sticking the plate in the dishwasher. When he goes back into the living room, Nursey is still dead to the world, and even though Bitty would _kill_ him if he knew Dex left him on the absolute monstrosity they call a couch, it feels cruel to wake him up when he looks so peaceful.

So Dex tosses the pillows at the other end of the couch out of the way so Nursey has more room for his feet, then carefully pulls the blankets up to Nursey’s chin, and then just as he sticks his hand out to do something stupid and ridiculous, like brush the hair out of Nursey’s face, he freezes and jerks his hand back to his side.

 _Stop being weird,_ he tells himself firmly, because seriously, where is all this coming from? Sure, he missed Nursey, but the cookies, the tucking him in, the warm fondness he feels all the way down to the tips of his fingers, is something else. Has the stress from finals not worn off yet? Is the lack of communication with the outside world after being trapped inside alone for several days getting to his head? Is the holiday season making him overly sentimental?

Dex shakes his head. Whatever it is, it’s probably nothing, he decides, heading off to the basement with only one final look at Nursey’s sleeping form snuck over his shoulder.

  
  
  


**four.**

Lardo left behind near impossible shoes to fill after she graduated, but Ford never ceases to impress Dex. For someone as small as she is, she’s absurdly good at wrangling ridiculous and Very Tall hockey players. She has their practice times memorized, knows their game schedule like the back of her hand, and fields Tango’s incessant questions like a woman wise beyond her years. He’d never tell Lardo, but he’s pretty sure she could give her a run for her money.

But no one is perfect, a fact Dex learns intimately when, on their third away game of Dex's last season, Ford pulls him to the side after they reach their hotel and says, “Please don’t kill me.”

Dex blinks in surprise. “What?”

Ford wrings her hands fretfully, looking everywhere but at Dex’s face. “Well, you see, the thing is. When I was booking the hotel rooms, I meant to get doubles for everyone and then a single for myself. But instead of requesting one single, I accidentally requested two.”

“Oh,” Dex says, feeling his shoulders slump somewhat. He thought they actually had a serious problem on their hands, so he’s not sure why Ford is coming to him about something so inconsequential. Sure, he’s the captain, but this is probably a problem she should take up with whichever players got saddled with the single. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Most of the guys get along just fine. Although if it’s Tango, whoever’s sharing with him might protest, but I can — ”

“What?” Ford interrupts. “No. The names I accidentally put down for the single were you and Nursey.”

“Oh,” Dex says again, in a very different voice.

Ford chews on her lip. “I’m really, really sorry. If you want, I can switch the reservation and make Hops and Louis take the single. Or — ”

“Ford,” Dex interrupts. “It’s okay. Nursey and I will be fine.”

Ford lifts an eyebrow. “Really?”

Dex does his best not to be offended by this because he and Nursey have actually been pretty good ever since Dex moved back into their room after the summer. They still fight, but it’s over stupid shit like whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza — harmless bickering more than actual arguments. They play Mario Kart together, study in the kitchen late into the night, and make impromptu trips to Jerry’s on Sunday mornings, even without Chowder.

It’s nice. It’s _really_ nice, actually. Which is the problem, because two weeks ago when Nursey had a mid-term in his hardest class, Dex skipped his morning run to swing by Annie’s and order a coffee the exact way Nursey liked it, with almond milk _and_ whip, without even thinking about it. And when he got back to the Haus, Nursey stumbled down the stairs in his pajamas with his hair sticking out every which way, and smiled when Dex handed him the coffee, gentle and soft, and Dex’s brain filled with static and he couldn’t think anything at all except for one singular, _Oh._

It was an inconvenient revelation, but Dex has excelled in the art of denial for years now, and this is no exception. And it’s not like Nursey is the first unattainable person Dex has happened to have a crush on. Because Nursey is infuriating and beautiful and incredible and he’s also Dex’s friend, and roommate, and Dex is his _captain,_ and nothing could ever happen between them even if Nursey felt the same way, which he never would. So Dex is treating this problem like he treats all of the others in his life — he’s ignoring it until it goes away.

Of course, the problem is going to be a little harder to ignore if he has to share a bed with it for a night. Still, with an air of confidence he doesn’t actually feel, Dex tells Ford, “It’s not a big deal. We’ve shared a bed before.”

This is true, but all the times he’s shared a bed with Nursey were when they were also sharing with Chowder, which is a little different, but Ford doesn’t need to know that.

Ford just makes a doubtful face at him but doesn’t argue, and Dex doesn’t either. So that’s how he finds himself standing next to Nursey, duffle bag in hand, in the doorway of their shared hotel room, staring down at the singular bed. It’s a big bed, in fairness. But maybe not quite as big as he’d prefer it to be.

But it’s fine. Dex is a grown, mature adult, and he can handle this.

Nursey, of course, is as chill as ever. “So, left or right side?”

“Uh, right,” Dex says, in a very normal and measured voice, thank you very much, and Nursey shrugs and tosses his duffel bag onto the left side.

They get ready for bed in silence, taking turns in the shower, changing into pajamas, and brushing their teeth next to each other in the bathroom in a way that feels uncomfortably domestic, which is weird because they _literally_ live in the same room. Still, Dex is calm, reminding himself that it’s not weird, that it’s just one night, that his feelings for Nursey aren’t even that big of a deal, anyway.

It’s not until later when the lights are off and he’s lying next to Nursey in the stillness of the hotel room that he starts to freak out. Because Nursey is _so close —_ every time he shifts, the bed moves, and his elbows and long limbs keep lightly brushing up against Dex. So rather than concentrating on getting to sleep, all Dex can do is stare at the ceiling and wonder how this became his life. Seriously, why does this shit always happen to him? How is he supposed to lie here all night and ignore Nursey, and pretend like — pretend he doesn’t —

“Hey,” Nursey says softly, interrupting Dex’s inner spiral. “You okay?”

Dex blinks, startled at the sound of Nursey’s voice breaking through the silence of the room, at how close his voice is to Dex’s ear.

“Yeah,” he lies.

“You’re stiff as a board.”

Dex doesn’t have an answer to this, so he says nothing.

“I have a hard time sleeping after a game, too,” Nursey admits finally.

Dex gratefully takes the out. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nursey says. “Like, I always spend hours thinking about what I could’ve done differently or better.”

Dex tears his gaze away from the ceiling above them and rolls over to face Nursey, who’s looking back at him. “Even if we win?”

Nursey lifts one of his shoulders in a shrug. “Sometimes.”

Dex frowns, because that doesn’t make sense. Nursey is amazing on the ice — he moves effortlessly and gracefully in a way his clumsy ass can never quite manage on solid ground. He’s always been a good player, but every year Dex watches him improve more and more, watches his passes connect each time, watches how aware he is of where his teammates are on the ice. It’s almost beautiful to watch, although that may have less to do with how good of a player he is and more to do with the fact that he’s Nursey. Regardless, Dex can’t possibly imagine what Nursey would have to beat himself up over.

So, finally, Dex says, “Why? You’re amazing.”

It’s not weird for a teammate to compliment another teammate, particularly when one of those teammates is captain, but in the quiet of the hotel room, with the only light being the dim crack beneath the door out into the hall, it feels like a much more intimate thing to say. And Nursey must feel it too, if the way his eyes widen slightly is any indication, and Dex feels his face go hot.

“Uh, on the ice, I mean,” he stammers out, although if he’s being honest, he meant more than that.

Nursey smiles anyway, slow and breathtaking, and Dex swallows. “Thanks,” he says quietly. “You’re amazing, too, you know.”

Dex’s face feels even hotter. “Shut up.”

“I mean it,” Nursey insists. “The way you communicate with the team and look out for us and have all our backs...just, how you’ve grown since we were all Frogs...it’s kind of incredible.”

Dex’s face is absolutely on fire now, and he really isn’t sure how he’s expected to process Nursey saying these many nice things about him, voice quiet and soft, when they’re lying in the same goddamn _bed._ Dex should say nice things back — something corny but true, like that the team is the reason he tries to be better every day — but instead, he asks the question that’s been at the back of his mind for months now. 

“Is that why you voted for me?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Nursey says finally. “Mostly.”

Dex doesn’t know what the other reason is, and he doesn’t dare ask. Instead, he says, voice rough, “Well. Thanks.”

Nursey smiles, sleepy and soft. “Got your back.”

They fall asleep an indeterminable amount of time after that, and when Dex wakes up to his arm flung across Nursey’s hip and his forehead pressed against the back of Nursey’s neck, they untangle quietly. Dex’s face is burning, but graciously, Nursey doesn’t say anything.

  
  
  
  


**five.**

“We should get a dog.”

Dex, who has had himself on mute in his Zoom class for nearly an hour now, doesn’t look up from his laptop. “We’re not getting a dog.”

“Dexy,” Nursey whines, and Dex finally unglues his eyes from his screen to watch Nursey put away the groceries he just picked via curbside. He hasn’t even stopped to take his face mask off yet, but Dex doesn’t need to see his face to know he’s pouting.

“We don’t have the room,” Dex reminds him.

“We would if we got a small dog,” Nursey counters, finally taking his mask off, and Dex tries not to roll his eyes. Nursey is the only person Dex knows who has yet to be afflicted by “mascne.” It’s probably because of his rigid skincare routine, but it’s just another reminder that Derek Nurse is gorgeous in any circumstance, like Dex even needs to be reminded of that. 

“Honestly, I’ve gotta say, I’m impressed you’re just now suggesting this idea,” Dex admits. “It’s like, Day 63 of quarantine. I figured, ‘Dex, I’m bored, let’s get a dog,’ would come out of your mouth by like, day five.”

Nursey ignores this. “When I asked if you wanted to move to New York with me after graduation and you said yes, I _asked_ if we could get a pet, and you said, _maybe someday._ That was _two years ago!_ We are _well past_ ‘maybe someday.’”

“I thought you meant a fish! Not a dog!”

Nursey sighs dramatically and flops onto the couch across from him, immediately tossing his feet into Dex’s lap and nearly dislodging his laptop in the process. It’s only then that he remembers he’s _literally_ in the middle of a Zoom class, and even though he’s on mute, he hopes that his grad professor has been too busy lecturing to notice that Dex has spent the last several minutes yelling at his roommate rather than paying attention to her class.

“But don’t you think a cute little dog would brighten the horror that is the year 2020? Wouldn’t it spice up our otherwise boring and miserable lives?” When Dex pointedly doesn’t answer him, Nursey sighs again. “You never let me have any fun. I bet Chowder would agree that we should get a dog.”

“He would not, and _don’t_ text him. It’s not even 7 am in California right now.”

“Fine, but I’m texting him later.”

Dex again doesn’t respond, and instead turns up his laptop’s volume, hoping Nursey will get the hint. Miraculously, he does, at least for a little while, and Dex can concentrate on his lecture in peace as Nursey silently messes around with his phone. The peace is broken when only ten minutes later Nursey says, “I miss him.”

The forlorn tone in Nursey’s voice is the only thing that stops Dex from getting annoyed. “Who, Chowder?”

“Yeah.” 

Dex looks up to see Nursey staring down at his phone with a frown, and he frowns back. “Yeah. Me too.”

It’s May, and they’ve been stuck in quarantine since March. It was hard enough to see Chowder regularly when he was an NHL star that lived on the opposite side of the country, but now that they’re in a global pandemic, it’s even harder. Dex hasn’t seen Chowder since February, and with the way things are going, he doesn’t know if they’ll be seeing him in person any time soon. They text all the time, of course, and he and Nursey have FaceTime dinners with Chowder and Farmer every Thursday night, but still. It’s not the same.

Nursey goes quiet again, a small, contemplative frown on his face as he stares at his phone, and just as Dex is beginning to wonder if he should say something to make Nursey feel better — though what he would say, he doesn’t know — Nursey says, “I’m glad I don’t have to miss you.”

Dex blinks. “What?”

Nursey rubs the back of his neck, still looking down at his phone, and Dex realizes he’s embarrassed. “Just...I know I haven’t been an easy person to be stuck in quarantine with, and that you’re sick of me burning banana bread. But I just keep thinking about how I was so convinced you’d never want to come live in New York with me, and how happy I am that you did, because I don’t think I could’ve gone this long without seeing Chowder _and_ you.”

Out of the two of them, Nursey is the words guy. He’s the one that communicates and says what he means. He’s the one that was brave enough to ask Dex if he wanted to still live with him after they graduated from Samwell, he’s the one who always knows what to say when Dex is upset, and he’s the first one to break the ice and talk things out when they argue, an occurrence that’s become rarer and rarer. As the years have gone by, they’ve become softer and easier with each other, less prone to pettiness and dramatics, and quicker to approach their problems more straightforwardly.

But this feels different. Nursey doesn’t normally talk with such openness and honesty, and he’s not one to say something so surprisingly tender, especially when he’s talking about Dex. He should meet Nursey’s sentimentalism in kind, should say something about how he’d moved to New York with him because he’d follow Nursey anywhere, but that feels _too much, too_ honest. And besides, he’s never been quite as brave as Nursey.

Instead, he settles for, “You’re not that hard to quarantine with.” But that still doesn’t feel enough, so he tacks on, “I’d rather be stuck in quarantine with you than anyone else.” 

Nursey smiles at him, and there’s an expression in his eyes Dex doesn’t think he’s ever seen before. “Yeah?” He asks softly.

Dex feels himself flush under Nursey’s scrutiny and merely nods in response, quickly turning back to his Zoom screen. He’s definitely going to get participation points deducted from his grade for this class. He doesn’t mind that much, though.

They resume their silence again, and it’s not until Dex’s Zoom meeting has ended fifteen minutes later that he looks up at Nursey again, who is back to looking at his phone, but isn’t frowning anymore.

“I could maybe, possibly, be persuaded to get one, small dog,” Dex says finally.

The sacrifice is worth the bright look in Nursey’s eyes when he says, excitedly, “Really?”

Then again, it’s not much of a sacrifice. A dog would certainly make being stuck in this apartment day in and day out more bearable.

“Really,” Dex says. “ _But_ we’re picking it out together. You can’t just come home one day with a dog.”

Nursey nods with more seriousness in his expression than Dex has ever seen, and he tries not to crack a smile. “Maybe we could get a Dachshund. Or a pug. Or just some sort of Terrier mix, you know? Something fluffy and kinda scrappy looking. Or — ”

And even though Dex has homework he needs to get done, he can’t help but watch Nursey animatedly name off dog breeds, arms gesticulating as he describes what their dog should look like and what they should name them. 

And the thing is, Dex wasn’t lying when he said quarantine with Nursey wasn’t too bad, and that he’d rather be quarantined with Nursey than anyone else. But he can’t help but think that his life might be a little easier if he wasn’t stuck in quarantine with someone he’s stupidly in love with, and can never, ever know.

  
  
  


**plus one.**

The pandemic lasts a lot longer than either of them expected it to. Dex looks back at March of 2020 when he thought quarantining would just be a brief reprieve from social interaction, and doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But just when he thought it would never end, the vaccine gets distributed, and slowly, things start to go back to normal. Dex can go on walks without wearing a mask, Nursey can safely go out to bars with his coworkers, and the two of them already have a plane ticket to visit Chowder in San Francisco next month booked. After months of terror and anxiety, Dex finally finds himself feeling hopeful again, like he can breathe for the first time in almost a year. It’s the best feeling he’s ever experienced.

The only downside to coming out of the other side of the pandemic is Dex’s realization that his life during quarantine didn’t look much different than his life pre-quarantine. Sure, he was working and taking classes from home rather than in person, but his social life didn’t experience much change at all. Aside from making routine trips to Lowe’s, going on runs at the park, getting brunch with Nursey, and the occasional Samwell semi-reunion, he doesn’t go out much. He’s always been a homebody, and the country reopening doesn’t do much to change that. 

Obviously, he makes plans to meet up with all the people he hasn’t seen since before quarantine — his mom and sister, Bitty and Jack, most of his friends from Samwell. But Dex’s idea of an exciting Friday night is usually ordering take-out and watching a movie, and even though he now has other options, it’s still the routine he settles into after the shiny newness of everything reopening wears off. After a few weeks, Dex realizes that the only time he’s really leaving the apartment is to take their pug Alfie — who Dex reluctantly fell in love with the moment they brought him home — to the park, and he’s okay with that.

Nursey, on the other hand, is more of an introvert than he pretends to be, but has always been the social butterfly of the two of them. Somehow, he knows anyone and everyone, and he’s always doing things like making new friends at the record store or in line at the supermarket. Being stuck inside changed Nursey’s life drastically, so it’s no surprise to Dex that Nursey’s social calendar is all booked up after he gets the vaccine and the stay-at-home ban is lifted. He goes out to dinner with his moms, visits all the local Indie bookstores and buys books he doesn’t need, tries out an escape room with his work friends, and signs up for a yoga class. Nursey invites Dex to a couple of these outings, but Dex usually declines. He’s perfectly happy at home, and most of the events are more Nursey’s scene, anyway.

But on a Saturday only a few weeks after the world opens back up, when Dex asks Nursey what his plans are for the day, he doesn’t have any. 

“Really?” Dex asks, pausing on his way to the kitchen in surprise.

“Nope, was just thinking about having a chill day.”

Dex narrows his eyes, examining Nursey’s posture for any sign that something could be wrong, because Nursey almost _always_ has plans. Did he get into an argument with his work friends? Did he find out that his new favorite brunch place was owned by Trump supporters?

But Nursey is the epitome of chill, sipping his tea at the kitchen table as he scrolls through his Instagram feed. If something’s actually wrong, Nursey isn’t letting on.

“So, what are _your_ plans for the day?” Nursey asks, looking up from his phone and propping his chin on his hand.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know,” Dex says. “Just chilling on the couch, I guess.” Nursey looks up, eyes bright at the word choice, and Dex narrows his eyes at him. “Don’t.”

Nursey raises his hands in surrender. “Wanna find something to watch Netflix?”

Dex blinks, a little surprised. “Uh. Sure.”

Nursey beams, and then the two of them spend the rest of the day lounging on the couch, arguing over what to watch with Alfie curled up in between them. And it’s dumb, because Dex has spent the better part of a year cooped up inside with Nursey, but he still can’t help but savor a day spent with his favorite person to spend time with.

Aside from Chowder. Obviously. 

It doesn’t stop there, though. Nursey still goes to work, and he has his dinner date with his moms every Tuesday night, and his usual yoga class is still every Sunday at eleven. But for the next several weeks, Nursey spends more and more of his weekends at home. He reads the books he owns instead of visiting Indie bookstores, he offers to make dinner instead of asking Dex if he wants to go out to eat, and he starts using the weights he optimistically bought back in March instead of going to the gym. 

At first, Dex assumes Nursey’s just trying to save money. But when Nursey starts making coffee using their Keurig instead of buying his ridiculously overpriced Starbucks iced coffee, Dex starts to wonder if something is really wrong. 

“Is everything okay?” Dex asks when he finds Nursey at the Keurig on a Saturday morning. Because seriously, Nursey has used it maybe twice since he bought it. Every other time he’s had coffee at home, it’s because _Dex_ made it for him. He didn’t even know Nursey knew how to use the damn thing.

Nursey looks up, raising his eyebrows. “Yes?”

Dex fidgets, because this is the fourth Saturday in a row Nursey has announced he has no plans for the day, and the small, insecure part of Dex’s brain is starting to worry that _he_ has something to do with it. Like, is Dex’s homebody attitude contagious, and it’s rubbed off on Nursey somehow? Or what if Dex continuously turning down Nursey’s offers to go out made him so bummed out that he decided to just start staying home?

“Well,” Dex begins very slowly. “You haven’t...gone out in a while.”

Nursey frowns. “I got dinner with my moms like four days ago.”

“I know, but...normally you’re out all day on a Saturday, with your friends or something.”

Nursey’s frown deepens. “Do you not...want me home?”

“No, of course I do,” Dex says, way too quickly. “Just, all the time in quarantine you talked about all the things you were going to do once we could do things again. And now we can do things, and you’re not doing them, so I just wanted to check-in and make sure you were alright?”

“I’ve been doing things,” Nursey insists. “I went to trivia the other night.”

“That was like, three weeks ago.”

Nursey opens his mouth, then closes it again. “Oh.”

Dex slips into the barstool on the other side of the kitchen counter across from Nursey, and Nursey continues to stare at the Keurig. Dex can’t tell if he’s just trying to avoid his gaze, or if he seriously doesn’t know how it works. “Seriously, Nursey, what’s up?”

“Well,” Nursey begins slowly. “I guess it just got kind of exhausting, you know? Going out, making plans, meeting up with people every day. You know I need time to unwind in between social interactions. And I guess...after being holed up at home all these months I kinda...forgot how to interact with other people?”

Dex raises his eyebrows. “You? Mr. Chill?”

Nursey looks up to glower at him. “Shut up.”

Dex just grins.

“So, there’s that. But I guess, also, the other thing is, I mean...obviously I still enjoy going out and doing things,” Nursey continues, looking down to fill his mug with far too much creamer. “And not being able to do things was hard. But I guess during quarantine I realized that it was sort of okay because actually, I sort of like spending time with you more than I like doing things.”

Dex blinks, certain that he misunderstood, but Nursey doesn’t amend his statement. “So...you’re not going out as much anymore because you’d rather….be here? With me?”

Nursey grabs an obscene amount of Splenda packets and begins to pour them into his mug. “Um, yeah. I guess so.”

“ _Why?_ ” 

Nursey’s gaze darts up towards him, then just as quickly resumes his stare down with the Keurig. “Come on, Dex. Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Dex’s throat feels dry, because Nursey isn’t...he _can’t_ be saying what Dex thinks he is.

“You’re the words guy,” he says, suddenly desperate. “Spell it out for me.”

Nursey stirs the Splenda and sugar around in his mug, even though he hasn’t added coffee to the cup yet.

“Well,” he says finally. “I’ve sort of been very obviously in love with you for an embarrassingly long time. So.”

Dex stares. “You’re _what?_ ”

Nursey lifts his shoulders into a shrug that’s supposed to look casual but misses it by a mile.

Dex tries to say something, but all that comes out of his mouth are garbled noises. Finally, he manages, “For the record, it wasn’t obvious. Like, at all.”

Nursey looks up, incredulous. “Dex, I asked if we could get a _dog_ together.”

“Firstly, don’t you dare bring Alfie into this,” Dex says, and Nursey scoffs. “And secondly, I guess I missed the memo that adopting a dog was at the same level as a declaration of love.”

Nursey shrugs. “I guess you did.”

Dex makes an exasperated noise. “Nursey, what the _fuck._ ”

Nursey throws up his hands. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Dex! Do you want to list the other obvious signs that I’ve been in love with you for an enormous amount of time?” Nursey lifts a hand and starts ticking things off on his fingers. “Like how I let you watch your stupid Home Improvement shows on _my_ TV, even if I’d rather watch something else, because it makes you happy? And how I’ve never once gone on a date or brought anyone home in the past three years because I’ve been too busy pining over you? Or, how about the big one, where I _literally_ asked you to come live with me?” 

Dex’s heart thuds louder in his chest with each reason Nursey names, because they’re all things he’s noticed, has tucked away in his memory to pull out and examine when he’s alone, but every time, managed to convince himself that it was nothing more than Nursey being a good friend, that it couldn’t possibly mean what he wanted it to.

But it did. It does. And Dex can’t fight the stupid grin that’s slowly spreading across his face. 

Nursey stops and narrows his eyes. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” Dex says, still grinning. And as Nursey begins to protest, he walks around to Nursey’s side of the counter, crowds him against the kitchen cabinets, takes his face in his hands, and kisses him.

Nursey freezes for only a moment, and then the spoon in his hand clatters to the ground so he can grab at Dex’s sweatshirt and pull him closer, and then he’s kissing him _back._ And even though Nursey evidently hasn’t brushed his teeth yet this morning, and there are sugar granules from the Splenda packets Nursey somehow got on the floor under his feet, Dex doesn’t know if he’s ever felt this happy. 

“We could’ve been doing this for _months,_ you know,” Dex says when they pull apart, and he wants to sound frustrated, but his voice comes out incredibly fond instead. “You could’ve confessed this in _March._ But no, you let me suffer in silence, made me pretend like _I_ haven’t been ridiculously in love with you for _years_ when the whole time you felt the same way. Do you have any idea how much suffering you’ve caused? I thought I was going to die of repression.”

Dex fully expects Nursey to say something corny and terrible, like that now’s their chance to make up for lost time, or something. Instead, Nursey smiles at him, looking a little dazed. “You love me?”

Dex feels his face grow warm. He feels the urge to make a joke or a snide comment of some kind, but with Nursey looking at him like that, Dex can’t find it in him to be anything other than honest.

“Yeah,” he says. “An embarrassing amount, probably.”

Nursey’s smile grows impossibly wider. “Yeah, same here,” he says, and then he kisses Dex again.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> me, writing about a future where COVID is over and life is back to normal: ahhh this is what they call coping <3


End file.
